Page 27 of No Control

She’s spent the entire day locked inside her house. I mean, Lydia literally hasn’t stepped one foot outside. She only slides the door open enough to let the dog out—and then closes it immediately. Her paranoia has gone up a few notches. And as I sit there, crouched in the cover of the thick woods, I ready myself. She’s going to bed soon…

And it’s time to get started.

She’ll probably call the police, but I can handle that. I’ve never done this sort of thing with a woman, but I’ve taken it upon myself to terrify plenty of my targets before taking care of them. I didn’t get that opportunity with Mason, unfortunately.

I glance down at the white mask with x’s over the eyes. I have only one concern when it comes to this whole plan—her shooting at me.

But I intend to fix this problem tonight.

I wait for the lights to turn off in the house and sit for another hour and a half. It’s a grueling wait, but I do what I have to do. And then I jump to my feet and make my way to the front door.

It’s the easiest access point, and I slip into the entry way just like before. I fix the mask, dog treat in hand. I have to get into Lydia’s room tonight…

And my mind runs rampant with what I could do while I’m there. My body reacts, but I push the thought away.

Nope.

Tonight, my hands will be full…of guns.

I pour over the kitchen and living room, searching for any weapons that she might’ve hid around the house. It’s not uncommon for paranoid people to have guns stashed all over the place. However, as I make my way down the hallway, my hands are empty. I slip into the first spare room and check there, but again, empty. The second room gives me more hope as I spot the gun safe in the corner.

Lucky for me, it’s a keypad.

I pull out my light, seeing what keys have been pressed the most before I get tricky—and as they illuminate, it doesn’t take an idiot to realize it’s her birthday.

Not a smart move, Lydia.

The safe is open within seconds, and I creep through the contents while removing the twelve-gauge shotgun, .223 hunting rifle, a 9mm pistol, and all the ammunition in sight. I set them to the side quietly, keeping my ear in tune for the dog. I have a treat in my pocket, laced with a sedative. I’ve done it with animals before if they forget we’re friends. However, it does me absolutely no good if they get a step ahead of me.

Thankfully, I pick up nothing in the air, and fish through the contents of the massive safe. My fingers land on a white envelope, and I pull it out, sifting through the cash. It’s a couple thousand. I put it back, and continue, looking for anything I don’t already have on file. Most of it is useless, consisting of warranties for appliances, insurance policy documents, and other random financial papers.

It's disappointing, really.

I close the safe door and gather up the guns and ammunition. I slip back through the house and out the front door, stacking them just inside of the woods. If I have to leave quickly, I don’t need to be trying to grab my arm full of weapons. I dust my hands off, and head back into the house, my heart beating more rapidly as I make my way to her room.

How light of a sleeper are you, Lydia?

I swallow hard, carefully checking the doorknob. It’s locked, naturally. I peer down at the mechanism and then nearly laugh. Locks like these are a joke. I dig into my pocket and pull out a small blade, inserting it like a flat head into the slit.

And then I twist until it clicks.

Here we go.

My fingers grasp the brass knob and I turn it silently. If the door squeaks, I’ll be screwed with the dog. Duke isn’t exactly a protection animal, but he’s more aware than the smaller types of dogs I’ve dealt with.

Though the yappy ones always pose a problem.

I push the door inward, holding my breath beneath the mask. I take in the blackness of the room. For some reason, I expected there to be a night light or something, but obviously, Lydia prefers pitch black. I blink my eyes to adjust, spotting Duke sleeping soundly on the bed. I reach up and lift the mask, pulling out the treat.

I have to take care of him first.

My footsteps are silent as I make my way around the bed. And he finally hears me from the deep sleep he was in. “Easy,” I whisper, holding out the treat. His tail slaps the bed as he takes it from my hand. “Good boy.” I pat his head, my heart rate coming down a few notches. I can relax a little. My eyes flicker to Lydia, curled up on her side and facing the dog.

Wow. She looks peaceful.

I pause to admire her, and the monster in me pulls at the urges washing through my body. Every ounce of my being wants to pull those covers back, spread her legs, and take her. Fuck consent. Fuck this patience.

My lips flatline. It would be so easy. Would she scream? Would she know it was me? I adjust my jeans and rip my eyes from her. As tempting as it is, I keep the lustful monster on his tight chain. Besides, I have a job to do tonight.

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